Planet of the Apes Omnibus 3 Read online

  Burke made Virdon sleep; the blond astronaut was nearly exhausted. Burke, who had rested fitfully during the night, now took over the supervising. He saw to it that each patient in the hospital hut was dosed with the quinine. Zoran and Inta watched curiously, then began to help in the treatment when it became obvious that there weren’t enough humans who were both well and awake, to tend to the sick.

  In the spare moments, when things seemed to be going smoothly, Burke nursed Amy, who seemed to be slipping further into delirium. The huge burden of work she had taken upon herself in the last few days had badly weakened her resistance.

  Galen resumed his work with the human crew, draining the last of the stagnant pools near the village. Near noon, the chimpanzee, covered with mud and more tired than he had ever been before, led his party back into the village.

  And General Urko, sitting astride his horse on a nearby hill, watched the activity with ill-concealed displeasure. He saw Galen leading the work party and was startled: as far as he knew, the only apes in the village were Zoran and Inta. From the distance he could not recognize Galen. But he was impatient, and the gorilla felt a nameless, growing fear within him.

  In the center of the meeting area, Burke and Virdon, once again awake and working, walked out to meet Galen, who looked every bit as tired as he felt.

  “Are you all right?” asked Virdon.

  Galen nodded. Around him, the work crew threw down their rough implements. They, too, were exhausted and glad to be back in the village. They didn’t understand the urgency of their work. They knew only that their labor, the hot summer sun, and Virdon’s protective gear, had, combined, been more unpleasant than anything they had ever had to endure from the apes. Galen pointed out of town, toward the area where he had been working. “It’s done,” he said. Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Urko is here.”

  Virdon looked where Galen indicated. He saw the silhouette of the gorilla general, sitting on his horse, on the top of a low hill outside the village. Virdon nodded grimly.

  In the hospital, Amy Talbert cried out in her delirium. Her voice was filled with pain and fear. It attracted Zoran’s attention; the chimpanzee turned from the patient on the mattress beside Amy.

  “Don’t leave me… tell me… she murmured. “Other place… the other place…”

  Zoran moved closer to Amy, wondering what she could be talking about. He took a piece of cloth, rinsed it in some fresh water, and softly wiped her sweating face.

  “Tell me again…” she said. She smiled. Zoran’s quick mind told him that the girl was not merely reciting her wandering fantasies. “Tell me again…” she said, “how it was… before…”

  Zoran raised his eyebrows. He spoke softly, encouraging her. “Before what?” he asked.

  “This,” whispered Amy, “all… this…”

  Zoran opened his mouth to ask another question, but before he could speak, distant shouts made him stand up and go to the door of the hospital hut.

  Out in the afternoon sunlight, Galen, Virdon, and Burke were running with the other villagers toward the central area, where they could get a better view of the disturbance. Zoran was curious; something terrible must have happened, but the Medical Officer had no ideas what it could possibly be. He arrived with the others, puffing and wheezing from the short run. He looked up to the gorillas’ hill.

  Several gorilla guards were running away from something. Although their words were not distinguishable, the note of terror was clear. Virdon and Burke started running toward them, with Galen following uncertainly behind.

  Zoran stayed where he was for a moment. He watched the disturbance on the hill. He saw Urko riding toward the frightened, scattering gorilla guards. Suddenly, Zoran made a decision.

  The chimpanzee ran to his horse, mounted quickly, and rode out of the village as hastily as the horse could carry him. He had an idea what the trouble might be, and Urko would certainly interfere. Zoran wanted to reach the soldiers first.

  Burke and Virdon stopped on the edge of the town, watching the gorillas uncertainly. Burke made a motion that they should continue up the gorillas’ hill, but Galen grabbed his arm and pointed to the right. “Urko,” said the chimpanzee.

  Indeed, the gorilla general was riding toward his troops. The men heard the sound of another set of hooves, and saw Zoran, also riding toward the same place. It was apparent that Urko would arrive before the doctor. Virdon, Burke, and Galen had to remain where they were, or else risk being recognized by Urko. They watched as several terrified gorillas pushed past Zoran’s horse, as the Medical Officer urged his mount up the hill.

  Urko rode into the middle of the area, accompanied by a few gorilla troopers. Urko reined in and took a quick survey of the situation. He saw Kava, the gorilla guard, prostrate on the ground, his body twisting and rolling in the grass, his face contorted with pain. Kava’s breath was coming in short, pained gasps.

  Zoran arrived, stopped his horse, and stared down at the ground, at Kava.

  Urko turned to Zoran, his gigantic rage fairly spilling out of him. “Now we’ll see… doctor!” he shouted. “Now we’ll see if the council still believes in you. The village will burn—and everyone in it! Everyone!”

  4

  Kava’s condition was obviously serious. The gorilla was barely conscious; the disease must have progressed in him for quite a while, and only his trained sense of self-control had prevented him from showing the signs of weakness before this. Unfortunately, malaria does not respond to mere acts of will, and sooner or later the victim is conquered.

  “Urko,” said Zoran forcefully, as the Medical Officer dismounted and handed the reins to one of the gorilla guards, “I promise you—”

  Urko still sat on his horse, observing the entire scene, his expression impassive until Zoran began to speak. Then his face became so grim and threatening that Zoran’s words faltered and he became silent. Zoran was concerned by Kava’s illness, but he was equally fearful of Urko’s rage. His concern and his responsibility as a doctor won. “I promise you that I will give him every care,” he said.

  Urko slammed a fist against the side of his saddle, making his horse jump nervously. Urko gave the reins a short jerk, quieting the horse almost without thinking about it. His attention was entirely somewhere else. “You make empty promises while my soldiers die!” he said fiercely.

  Zoran went to his horse and took a small canteen that was looped over the saddle’s pommel. He walked back quickly to Kava’s side, but turned to face Urko. “Believe me,” said Zoran, “I have the means now to cure him.” He held up the canteen and shook it. Inside was a quantity of Virdon’s distilled quinine. “This is a new medication. It is made from the bark of a tree I looked for and, luckily, found in time.”

  Zoran opened the canteen and knelt down to give Kava a drink of the medicine. Urko spurred his horse forward, enraged, and kicked the canteen from Zoran’s hand. The chimpanzee looked up in surprise; the usually even-tempered Zoran was now becoming very angry himself. He was not used to treatment like this, and he would not accept it, even from Urko. Before he could say a word, however, Urko’s horse brushed against Zoran and knocked the Medical Officer sprawling in the dirt.

  “You will not experiment with my men!” said Urko. With a quick movement, he wheeled his horse and rode off toward his command tent. The other gorillas followed, leaving Zoran alone on the hill; two of the guards had put Kava on Zoran’s horse and were leading it away. Another gorilla carried the canteen of quinine and was splashing it out as he rode after his leader. Zoran could only watch resentfully. After a few moments he picked himself up, brushed off his clothing, and began the long walk back to the village.

  Later that day Zaius called another meeting of the Supreme Council of Elders in Urko’s command tent. They were meeting to evaluate the progress Zoran had made, and to decide what further action should be taken. Zoran sat in his usual place, his manner not at all hinting at the furious doubts and worries that boiled in his mind. Urko stalked impati
ently back and forth, as he addressed the group in awesome fury. “Burn the village!” he demanded. “Now—before we are all destroyed!”

  The members of the council reacted with fearful chattering. Urko was doing a good job of stirring them up. Zoran realized that he would have to fight to continue his work. “No,” he shouted over the uproar. “We are making progress!”

  Zaius banged his gavel until there was quiet. “This medication, Zoran,” he said calmly. “Is it effective?”

  Zoran had to consider his answers carefully; he knew that Zaius would treat the matter fairly, but even so, if Zoran sounded the least bit uncertain, it would be a sure victory for Urko. “Yes,” said Zoran. “Yes, it will be, soon. Of course, it takes a certain amount of time. A few hours.”

  Urko responded quickly. It was developing into more than the usual council debate. It was a battle between two different and irreconcilable means of governing apes and humans. To Urko, the issue of the disease was only, a secondary matter. The real question was power. “There is no more time!” he shouted. The gorilla turned to the rest of the council. “How many must die—how many of you must die—before you do what must be done?” Urko turned back to Zaius. “I demand a vote!” he cried.

  Zaius would not permit himself to be drawn into the growing uneasiness of the council, or the grotesque struggle for dominance that Urko was so obviously initiating. “You will have your vote, Urko,” he said.

  “Now!” shouted Urko, ready to do anything he had to in order to force, the issue. “No more talk!”

  Zaius sighed wearily. No one in the council ever seemed to appreciate what an emotional drain it was, to sit in the chair of the presiding officer. “I wonder what you fear most, Urko,” he said softly, “death, or a few words of reason.”

  “I fear you,” said Urko angrily, “all of you, listening to this fool!”

  “Enough, Urko,” said Zaius. Urko quieted down at the note of authority in Zaius’ voice. There was absolute silence in the command tent for a moment. The noise of the bustling gorilla soldiers and their horses came in, along with the soft peaceful chirp of a nearby bird. Zaius wondered how such a pleasant place could be the scene of so much turmoil and anxiety. Slowly he rose from his chair. He would have to override both Urko’s emotional appeal and Zoran’s vehemence. He would have to present the case to the council now in a brief but equitable summary. “Zoran has found a medication,” he said, looking at each member of the council in turn. “Zoran is our chief Medical Officer. It is his word, and his alone, that we must accept on the effectiveness of the medication. Perhaps it will cure… perhaps not. What Urko says is also true, that with delay… there is risk.”

  There was an undercurrent of uncertain murmurings from the council members. When stated simply, the problem resolved itself into a greater dilemma. Stripped of Urko’s fiery rhetoric, the problem revealed itself worthy of the most serious consideration.

  “We’ve come this far,” Zoran urged, “the answer, right or wrong, is only a few hours away.”

  “That is up to the council to decide,” said Zaius. “The time for debate has ended. Urko has asked for a vote, and we shall have it now.” Zaius turned to the council. “Those for letting Zoran continue,” he said.

  Three of the seven council members raised their hands, including Zoran. Urko muttered inaudible curses at the others who voted with the Medical Officer.

  “Those against?” asked Zaius.

  Urko and two others raised their hands. A tie. Zaius guessed that the vote would end up that way, as it so often did. The two men who voted with Urko almost always agreed with him on other matters. The three apes were a kind of party faction in the council. Zoran and the other two sometimes voted together, sometimes not. Zaius could remember too many occasions when he had to cast the deciding vote. Sometimes it got to be too great a responsibility. “Very well,” he said slowly. “The decision is mine.”

  Zaius studied Zoran, who sat in his chair quietly, completely motionless. Perhaps the Medical Officer truly had no idea of the validity of his theories. Perhaps Urko was correct, and Zoran was using the situation as a readymade laboratory for his private use, disregarding the danger it meant to the rest of his fellows. But then, there was always the chance…

  Zaius nodded. “You have until noon tomorrow,” he said.

  Urko turned to Zoran and the other two apes who had voted against the gorilla. His look was mean and hateful. “Fools,” he said. “In a few hours when you are dying in your own sweat—like him—remember what I told you.” The council broke up. Some members walked toward their horses, discussing the situation in low voices. There was an almost unbearable tension; the apes gave Zoran many a quick and doubtful look. Urko mounted his horse, but did not ride off. The others mounted and left the command area as quickly as possible.

  Zaius and Zoran walked toward their horses together. Zoran was thanking the presiding officer for his generosity, but Zaius cut him off, “Noon, tomorrow,” he said, climbing on his horse. Zoran nodded, and Zaius rode off.

  Urko prodded his horse closer to Zoran, who backed away. He remembered how Urko had nearly trampled him. Urko pointed to Kara, who was lying in pain in the shade of a large tree. “Stay away from him,” said Urko. If you touch him again, I’ll kill you.” Zoran did not reply. While the chimpanzee was getting on his own horse, Urko wheeled and rode off to inspect his perimeter guards. Zoran turned his horse and rode back to the village, his thoughts muddled and discouraged.

  The afternoon wore on, and the people of Trion worked to prevent the fever from spreading. Some villagers made more quinine; some gathered more cinchona bark; others kept up the daily routines of food distribution and water carrying; everyone took turns ministering to the sick. The regular work in the fields had to be tended to, but only a minimum effort was made to this, however, for the immediate problems outweighed the long range considerations in the minds of the humans. When night fell, enough medicine had been made to last for the next two days. Everyone in the village drank a regular dose of the foul-tasting stuff. The people who had been making the quinine were given a short rest period, and then reassigned to other duties.

  The night was quiet, except for the moaning of the sick from the hospital hut. Torches along the single road lit the scene with flickering patches of light. Shadows grew and jumped with the changes in the blazing torches. Some of the huts showed little beams from candles and oil lamps. As best they could, the survivors of Trion were trying to return to normal life amid the horrors of the epidemic. The most light came from the hospital hut.

  Virdon walked among the beds of the sick in the hospital, studying the faces, hoping for a sign that the medicine he had devised was having its proper effect. He joined Zoran at the bedside of a young woman, who was lying bathed in sweat, unconscious. Zoran finished giving her a drink of the medicine. “She drank enough, just before she collapsed,” said the ape.

  Virdon only nodded, his thoughts elsewhere. “Noon, tomorrow,” he said worriedly. He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know…”

  Zoran looked up, startled. “You said the medication worked quickly.”

  Virdon shrugged. “Yes, it does,” he said tiredly. “But there could be… extenuating factors. A mutation of the germ. A different variety of malaria. So many intangibles. So many unknowns…”

  Virdon’s words, and the note of doubt that had been so evident in his words, made Zoran suspicious. The chimpanzee stood and looked at Virdon closely. “I have put myself in a difficult position,” he said. “Because I trusted your advice, that is. I was not in a position to bargain with the council today.”

  Virdon was appreciative of what Zoran had done, and of the personal dangers the ape faced. He spoke gently. “I know,” he said. “I understand.” There was little more to be said. The two walked slowly among their patients. “We’ll give them another dose in the morning,” said Virdon. “All we can do for the moment is—wait…”

  Zoran nodded his head in agreement. “That’s
always the most difficult part in these cases,” he said. “You’d better sleep. You’re getting less rest than anyone in the village.”

  Virdon tried to reply, but found to his dismay that he was just too fatigued to speak any further. He nodded and staggered to an empty mattress. He lay down. Burke was already asleep on a nearby mattress. Zoran watched the two humans. After several moments, he was satisfied that they were both in deep sleep. Then the chimpanzee moved quickly and quietly to Amy’s cot.

  Zoran stood for several seconds, staring down at the young girl. He wondered what this seemingly unimportant, example of a lower species might be able to tell him. It would be ironic indeed if this human child would provide information that would shake up the ape establishment. Amy Talbert might be the key Zoran needed to regain whatever lost esteem he would suffer should Virdon’s magical cure fail to perform its advertised miracle.

  Zoran knelt by the girl’s side. He took a wet rag, squeezed out the excess water, and wiped her fevered face. Amy tossed uncomfortably on her mattress. Zoran saw that she had half wakened. “Amy,” he whispered.

  Either the girl had not heard him, or, if she had, she had been unable to reply. Zoran tried again. “Amy?”